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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24263392">Ubuntu</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherFleur/pseuds/CherFleur'>CherFleur</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apathy, Depression, Gen, Memory Loss, Multi, Physical Disability, Some world building because I can't help myself, Starvation, Suicidal Thoughts, Terminal Illnesses, Toxic Masculinity and how that's not okay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:01:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,390</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24263392</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherFleur/pseuds/CherFleur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe his memory was shit, but he knew that he'd been waiting to die for the majority of his life. That he was living on borrowed time he hadn't asked for, waiting to sink because he'd stopped swimming.</p>
<p>Gin didn't have dreams, didn't know what hope felt like, could barely remember why his feet kept moving him forward. Maybe existing until he <i>didn't<i> anymore was all he was good for. Maybe if he weren't so pathetically apathetic, he'd take matters into his own hands.</i></i></p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>As it was... for a while, he supposed he could exist in this general area. Until he didn't anymore.</i>
  </i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gin &amp; Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates, Gin &amp; Trafalgar D. Water Law, Gin &amp; Vinsmoke Sanji, Gin/Vinsmoke Sanji</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/racoon/gifts">racoon</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for my dear friend Fisch who is my master Tribble Farmer - because she is too aggressive for plot bunnies - and we've been torturing each other for a while with this idea. I have no idea exactly how I'm going to flesh this out, but it's gonna get angsty my friends.</p>
<p>Grammar and Typos, please!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gin had known from very early on that he was born to die.</p>
<p>Living to be old in his family was rare in the first place, but there were a few more things in play <em>after</em> he was born. Things that no one had taken into account when they'd been planning his career path, his life such as it was meant to be.</p>
<p>To be honest, it was something of a miracle, or perhaps a curse, that he'd managed to live as long as he had so far. There were very few points in his life where he could say that he hadn't dreaded the fact that he didn't have the ambition to take his own life. If only to end the seemingly eternal suffering he'd been gifted upon birth, an endless deluge of bullshit that seeped through the borders of life.</p>
<p>Fate had spat on him when he'd been born in the White City.</p>
<p>When his family, the majority of which were martial artists and caravan guards, had noticed the illness spreading, they hadn't done much. After all, symptoms were easily spotted and everyone in their family was strong of build and immune system, not often getting sick.</p>
<p>Poison didn't work like that however; despite whatever strength their immune systems might have, they were vulnerable.</p>
<p>They didn’t have any spectacular physical resistances to fall back on, they weren’t a family of poison masters and mistresses. They were guardsman and soldiers, not <em>assassins</em>, that was another family’s trade.</p>
<p>Simple mercenaries with average immunities and no particular special talents to keep them afloat in such dangerous times.</p>
<p>They didn’t stand a chance.</p>
<p>While they'd been too stubborn to leave nearly soon enough, they did evacuate before the purge of the island by using what few meager favors were owed to them. They weren’t doctors and didn’t have a full understanding of what was happening to them as they got sick, but they knew not to tell the government.</p>
<p>How they ran their family business wasn’t exactly always legal, after all, they weren’t sanctioned and didn’t belong to a Noble. It was common knowledge that the Marines and the World Government were about as corrupt as something could get these days.</p>
<p>It didn't matter, in the long run.</p>
<p>They had all died anyway. Slowly, painfully. Wasting away from the inside. A combination of hunger and illness.</p>
<p>All of them but Gin.</p>
<p>Oh, he was still <em>sick</em>, though. No miraculous cure there.</p>
<p>Still wasting away in all the ways most gruesome and challenging, having lost the lottery of life and somehow ended up in <em>debt</em>.</p>
<p>The Amber Lead had simply sunk deep into him rather than the patchwork on the skin that most of those poisoned had to single them out instead of the slow agony of an incremental death.</p>
<p>More than half of his family, siblings included, had died simply from others seeing that they were sick and killing them because of the white splotches. The physical sign that they were ill had gotten them killed faster than their actual malady, ironically. But not Gin.</p>
<p>No, Gin got the slow death.</p>
<p>It wasn't anything dramatic, there was no promise to a dying sibling or parent that he'd live, no tragic heartfelt determination to carry a dream for someone lost. He didn’t have anything other than atrocious luck.</p>
<p>Though his older sister <em>had</em> cursed him with her last full breath that she hoped he died in an even more agonizing way than she did.</p>
<p>Which was kind of ambitious, really. Seeing as she’d been paralyzed for some reason, the disease eating her blind and gaunt until she’d simply been unable to force her heart to beat and lungs to inflate. She’d drowned in her own blood as her internal organs failed, seething with enough dark hatred he was surprised she hadn’t risen as a ghost.</p>
<p>There had been no kindness left in her, not that he could remember her having been particularly kind, no energy spared for those who would live on after her.</p>
<p>Gin could understand that, he couldn’t quite remember what it felt like, not dying.</p>
<p>His grandfather had told him not to seek death when they’d first abandoned the White City, not fully understanding the epidemic for what it was. His eyes had been grim and full of a world weariness that Gin hadn’t understood yet, but that wasn't something that one really needed to go looking for.</p>
<p>In this world, death could come from anything.</p>
<p>Even his own lungs and other internal organs slowly solidifying or whatever it was they were doing inside of his body to ruin him so.</p>
<p>He'd been young when they left the White City, and even though he remembered how lovely it had been with a slightly acerbic nostalgia, he most clearly remembered the scent of <em>decay</em>. The metallic tinge to every breath like he had been licking pennies, like his nose was constantly bleeding down the back of his throat. That place had been slowly dying even before the World Government destroyed it to cover up their tracks on whatever it was they'd sanctioned that killed most of the populous slowly.</p>
<p>Still, he'd been trained by skilled, experience fighters from a young age. It had been assumed that he'd join the family trade at some point, being somebody’s muscle or an extra blade when needed. So when he was inevitably on his own in a world that would see him dead with no care at all, he could defend himself; his body learned quickly even as his mind forgot.</p>
<p>Muscle memory and instinct had saved his pathetic self more than anything else. He might have been waiting for death, but his body wanted to live and took pains to make sure that he did, no matter how painful it was.</p>
<p>There'd been a point or two where things got fuzzy – well, more than a few, really – because his memory was a little damaged from the Amber Lead eating away at him. If he ever got autopsied, he was pretty sure his brain would just be a hunk of white poison hardened and heavy. Still, he was fairly sure that he'd found himself in East Blue because he'd hired on as a deck hand.</p>
<p>It wasn't quite clear, but it was better than slowly trying to figure out why he was getting fucked by some old merchant captain. Before coming to the mildly disturbing realization that past him had hired out his body for food and transport.</p>
<p>That had been... interesting.</p>
<p>Although present him at the time hadn't exactly been freaked out about his memory glitching on him in the middle of whoring himself out. He'd considered it before; he was <em>pretty</em> sure. Even if he had been mildly disturbed that such a thing could happen.</p>
<p>It seemed <em>that</em> something like that should be more memorable, but who knew, really?</p>
<p>Something small and light that had managed to survive for so long shriveled up and died a quiet, resigned death. Well, Gin was sure there were worse things.</p>
<p>What was his body, but the cage he was slowly rotting in, really?</p>
<p>Funny, how he could perfectly recall the sight of the all the atrocities he’d witnessed. The decayed bodies of his family, the screams and cries of someone being beaten to death for visibly having a disease. The glassy dead eyes of his sister as her body finally gave out where her spirit already had, spite insufficient fuel.</p>
<p>He could remember those things, and the dazzle of the city that had ended them, but they hadn’t ended with it. Yet, he couldn’t remember to eat until his stomach literally stopped reminding him that he needed to, and lightheadedness did it for him.</p>
<p>Which could really be the sickness <em>or </em>hunger, when you got down to it. Part of him had learned how to identify the difference between his normal weakness and extenuating weakness, but he couldn’t consciously recall it. Hands would reach for food or medicine on their own without conscious thought, telling him what exactly was wrong with him.</p>
<p>Part of him was more disturbed than others when he sat down – gingerly, with an unpleasant, unfamiliar soreness – and truly thought about the spots in his memory that he couldn't quite remember. Blank spaces that he'd never actually tried to fill before, assuming that they were just more of the same monotony of waiting to die.</p>
<p>That small something that had just died inside him felt cold and heavy, like an anchor pulling him under to slowly drown.</p>
<p>For some unfathomable reason, he'd stared down at his hands, which were long fingered and wide palmed. Gin’s skin was North dark, unmarred by the dreaded White that had ended so many lives and decimated an island. His hands were <em>normal</em>; simply scarred, fingers a little crooked. Like any other person’s hands were when they lived rough, hopping from ship to ship. Only fighting when necessary, waiting to die, vaguely looking forward to the act when it happened, because it meant that he could stop... stop trying.</p>
<p>Everything had seemed... heavy, in that moment.</p>
<p>Who was he, but his memories?</p>
<p>He could only laugh so that he didn’t sob in defeat, coughing up blood and phlegm with the action his body wasn’t built to withstand anymore. It didn’t really matter, did it? Gin was born to die, not to be remembered or, as it were, remember.</p>
<p>So he'd parted ways with the man who'd fucked him and got off at the next island they stopped at. The captain had been alright all things considered, for having been using him for sexual relief throughout the voyage, never rough or anything, even gave him some coin.</p>
<p>Perhaps he’d done this before, and this was simply one of the better ones. Who knew?</p>
<p>He took to arm wrestling for money in an inn he was working for board in so that he wouldn’t have to <em>think </em>about it. This meant he ended up giving pretty much all the money he made towards paying for food at the inn, which made the keeper happy enough to allow the gambling and such. If there was one thing his body hadn't taken from him it was his inherited above average strength, his body was tall, wiry and well-muscled. Well, other than his unfortunate ability to move about freely without much in the way of persecution in comparison to the other infected.</p>
<p>Not much for cardio stamina, really, but that was more about his lungs and heart fucking him over than his muscles.</p>
<p>Well, most of the time, anyway. Probably.</p>
<p>He wasn’t in any way medically educated.</p>
<p>Gin’s fighting style was to hit quick and hard, not give the other a chance to draw things out. His first instinct was to kill rather than to brawl, because he only had so much physical ability left in his withering form.</p>
<p>Stamina was not his forte.</p>
<p>Saved a girl from some punks at one point because she reminded him of the slow, sweet girl that had been the younger sibling to one of his weird classmates back in the day. He'd been slightly younger than Gin and obsessed with medicine, but he'd been nice with a crooked smile. From what he could remember, the little sister had happily shared candy with anyone she saw, giving a wide, slightly confused smile.</p>
<p>This girl wasn’t that little blonde, however, even if that strange sense of nostalgia is what made him give her a hand. It certainly wasn’t a hero complex or some sort of altruistic streak; he’d had that beaten out of him long ago.</p>
<p>Her father was a tattoo artist, though, and to repay him for saving his daughter he said he'd give him ink. They couldn’t afford anything else, and tattoos were normally expensive. Still, it was something that would stay with him his entire life, something he didn’t have to maintain overmuch. Something that would remain even if his mind forgot about it, his body would remember, even if he didn’t.</p>
<p>To be honest, besides the inky, raised mess he’d carved into himself, he’d… never considered just getting art put on his body.</p>
<p>Gin had looked down at his dark, Amberless skin, and told the man to mark him up with a kind of sick, macabre humor twisting his weary features. The man, Cecil, had seemingly taken this as a challenge of some kind and covered most of Gin in black ink over the course of a few days.</p>
<p>Getting anything in color was more expensive and also more time consuming, but considering Gin wasn’t actually <em>paying</em>, he didn’t mind not getting the full experience. Cecil had been competent and professional, his shop sterile and well stocked, written instructions provided so that Gin could have the reminder of care.</p>
<p>Strange that he remembered his name and not his daughter's, but at that point in his life, Gin was lucky if he remembered what he’d done a few hours before.</p>
<p>It looked nice though.</p>
<p>Kinda like he was a rich Yakuza, but, y'know, nice.</p>
<p>Nothing like the scrawl that covered his leg up onto his hip and starting at the bottom of his ribcage that he mostly forgot was there until he took his pants off. Mostly, he didn’t remember it.</p>
<p>He was fine with that.</p>
<p>Still, he'd gotten used to covering up his uselessly unmarred skin, and so that stunning work never really saw the light of day. It was like a <em>pleasant</em>, amusing surprise every time he bathed or changed his clothing, as opposed to the ones he normally got when he saw himself. A kind of ‘<em>what the hell is – oh, right huh</em>’ that he never really got over but always got a kick out of.</p>
<p>Meeting the Don, becoming part of his crew, had kind of fallen into place because of a wild child named Pearl.</p>
<p>Pearl was big.</p>
<p>Pearl was impressionable.</p>
<p>Pearl was just a little bit <em>slow</em>.</p>
<p>Gin was pretty sure that the guy wasn't pure East, because Eastern stock just didn't come in sizes like that. He'd been breaking something in a shop, making howling noises about fire and it had been kind of irritating since he'd been drinking some of the free refill tea there. When he’d looked for the cause, he’d found that there had been a very realistic painting on the wall. It had reminded him of the kids back on the island who’d hadn’t quite been right in the head, how little things could set them off and there wasn’t much to do besides wait for them to calm down.</p>
<p>So, he'd knocked the man out and dragged him outside.</p>
<p>Okay, he wasn’t the most patient man when it came to someone interrupting one of the few peaceful moments he managed to scrounge up. It wasn’t particularly <em>good </em>tea, but it had been free and the way that the shop had looked, they’d close quicker than a fourth broken plate could happen.</p>
<p>After that, once the gibbering wreck that was Pearl had gotten something like an explanation out to the Don, he'd approached Gin and pretty much threatened him into joining his crew or dying.</p>
<p>He hadn't exactly had anything better to do, and at least the man didn't want to fuck him, so he'd shrugged and said sure. So long as he got paid, because violence was a business and he wasn't into freebies, had food and a place to sleep, he couldn't care less about joining in on a pirate lifestyle.</p>
<p>He did have <em>some </em>standards though.</p>
<p>When he found out one of the men had a thing for kids, he killed him. No ifs ands or buts. The Don had been angry about the loss, but he agreed that child hunger was disgusting, because while violence against any age was fine, <em>apparently</em>, pedophilia was on the <em>not good</em> list. When someone tried to add rape to the pillaging part of their lifestyle, Gin disagreed, strongly.</p>
<p>Maybe he was more dead inside than outside, but he couldn’t let <em>that</em> be either, the heavy stone in his chest a sharp ache.</p>
<p>Don didn't care one way or the other, he wasn't interested in sex in any way, not even for the domination of others, but he agreed to let Gin discipline those that he thought deserved it. Mostly because it made the crew easier to control with the threat of becoming a bloody smear on the deck.</p>
<p>Somehow, he was named First Mate, but that was mostly because Don paid him more to deal with logistics and giving orders. Half of which Pearl helped with because Gin, of course, sometimes forgot things. The wild child had a remarkably perfect memory for conversations, for mimicking the voices of others, even if he didn't understand the words.</p>
<p>It wasn't a position that Gin overly cared for, but it wasn't the worst he'd been in, and he'd probably die before it became too tedious.</p>
<p>Everything came to a head though, when after a year or two, Don decided to try for the Grand Line.</p>
<p>Gin was well aware that they weren't going to make it, the crew wasn’t nearly strong enough, but perhaps that was just how things would go. Perhaps it would be the Reverse Mountain that killed him rather than Amber Lead eating him from the inside. Perhaps a Grand Line Pirate or someone in Logue Town if they stopped there before heading out.</p>
<p>Either way, he was pretty sure they were all going to die.</p>
<p>Hadn't expected one of the Shichibukai, but whatever. Did anyone <em>ever</em> expect one, really? Especially Hawkeye. Gin's luck was shit anyway.</p>
<p>Starvation hadn't been on that list of ways to die heading to the Grand Line, but whatever. It was on the general list of ways to kick it, so Gin wasn't too perturbed by it. It wasn’t the first time he’d gone hungry, but it was perhaps one of the worst cases he could remember experiencing.</p>
<p>Could have been worse...</p>
<p>Probably.</p>
<p>Marine’s weren’t so bad, some of them. One of them had even tried to sneak him some food before the prissy Captain caught wind of it.</p>
<p>Didn’t kill him on his way out of the ship. Didn’t torture him more than the aforementioned starvation.</p>
<p>Decency was in short supply, but these ones weren’t the worst. So he didn’t kill them when he made his escape, only roughed them up a little.</p>
<p>When he stumbled dazedly into the Baratie after leading the Marines on a merry chase, it had taken him a moment to realize why he'd come there, because he'd forgotten hunger. Again. Until his stomach cramped, bones feeling hollow and ravenous because he was about to shake apart at the seams.</p>
<p>Patting his pockets down, he found some spare change as the large man greeting him at the door had asked if he could pay.</p>
<p>"… Do you charge for water?"</p>
<p>Because in all honesty, the way that his throat and mouth ached was worse than the echoing, burning cramp of nausea in his stomach, the hollow ache of his bones. His brain was probably cannibalizing itself already, with how slow he felt, the world a wet oil painting under a spring rain.</p>
<p>The man had gotten a mutinous look on his face that he knew from experience meant things were still shit in the world. So, Gin had blinked tiredly at him, hand no longer having the strength to hold the few pennies he had and leaned against the wall as they clattered noisily on the floor.</p>
<p>Eh, not like he needed money when he was dead, anyway.</p>
<p>"Okay," his voice was dry and didn't sound nearly as tired as he felt, but his eyes had closed at some point. "Might wanna help me outside so I don't croak in your dining area."</p>
<p>While he wasn't exactly tossed out, the hand that had yanked him by the arm outside hadn't been gentle. He hadn't expected it to be, he’d never really experienced anything like it since the world had gone to shit. Gin had let himself collapse to the ground without comment, ready to wait for his body to either <em>finally</em> fucking die or his shit luck to keep him alive.</p>
<p>Man, he was thirsty.</p>
<p>Mostly, though, he just wanted to sleep.</p>
<p>Sleep made it so that the stomach cramps weren't so bad, so that everything just shut down and life wasn't as much agony as it was otherwise. Breathing hurt, but that wasn't unusual, and the sky was too bright, but he didn't have the energy to move an arm to cover his eyes. Gin rarely had energy to spare, but it was definitely in short supply at the moment, so he settled for closing his eyes and lolling his head to the side.</p>
<p>Maybe he’d cook in the sun like old jerky before his body finished eating what was left of his internal organs. Wouldn’t that be neat?</p>
<p>Wouldn’t it just?</p>
<p>
  <em>Pretty...</em>
</p>
<p>It took the realization that he was looking at someone to realize that he'd been moved, that he was propped up lightly in someone's lap. That he was awake.</p>
<p>Guess he hadn’t succumbed to the long sleep just yet. Unfortunate.</p>
<p>Still, it was a lovely sight that met his blurry, too dry and tired gaze when his body woke before his beleaguered brain managed to.</p>
<p>Shiny golden hair, pale skin and dark green-blue eyes atop a frowning full, wide mouth that looked mobile. Good looking. His eyes were so clear, and his soft lips curved with foreign worry and sympathy. Such pale hair... something about the distinctive curl to an eyebrow was familiar, but he couldn't place it. Even as he was running a weary but appreciative eye over the attractive face of the man in front of him, he dismissed his shitty brainpower.</p>
<p>Either he’d remember or he wouldn’t.</p>
<p>It probably wasn’t important; most things weren’t when you were a walking corpse waiting to happen.</p>
<p>“I have some water here,” the pretty man’s voice was low and smooth. “But you have to drink <em>slowly</em>.”</p>
<p>Gin blinked groggily as he deciphered the words, before nodding a little in the man's grip, tendons feeling like they might snap like old life lines. If the pretty man was going to slake his thirst, well, who was he to stop him? Gentle hands and soft encouragement kept him from nodding off or forgetting himself in the midst of swallowing.</p>
<p>Part of him just wanted to go back to sleep, to let himself finish wasting away, but the rest was enthralled by those pretty eyes. The way they shone in that pale, unblemished face under hair the color of sunshine, that looked remarkably soft even in his blurry unfocused vision.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Gin’s voice sounded rougher and grittier than usual, but it wasn’t cracking anymore from his parched throat. His tongue didn’t feel like sandpaper in his mouth. “You didn’t have to.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well,” mumbled the lovely man with his gentle hands, a scowl moving over that face as he fumbled out a cigarette to place it between full, pink lips. “There’s a lot of things I don’t have to do that I do anyway. Doesn’t have anything to do with you personally.”</p>
<p>Ah, cute.</p>
<p>Despite the knowledge that it would make him ill and hack up a part of his lung, he wanted to slide his own cracked lips over the filter of the cigarette, to have a taste of that mouth.</p>
<p>Ridiculous, really, since it was only the kindness of a stranger that had them meeting at all, not a shady hookup in a bar.</p>
<p>Also, Gin was under no illusions that he looked anywhere near attractive in those moments, if the lovely man even had a taste for his own gender at all. The sunshine haired man did keep him propped up in his lap however, taking the vagabond turned pirate’s meager weight easily against a leanly muscled frame. A frame that smelled mostly of spices and smoke, but some sort of laundry detergent could just be found beneath that.</p>
<p>He was wearing a <em>suit </em>of all things.</p>
<p>Gin found that a little amusing, but his stomach cramped badly for a moment. So instead of a smile curving them, his lips pinched painfully at the corners. Instead of taking in what might be the last sight of something lovely in his life, he closed his eyes at the more than a little discomforting sensation of his body cannibalizing itself. Or fighting over digesting the sudden influx of hydration.</p>
<p>Whatever it was, he wished his body would make up it’s mind on if he would die already or live in agony.</p>
<p>Likely, because Fate fucking <em>hated </em>him and liked to laugh in his face, Gin would get to experience the lovely aspects of starvation for a while yet.</p>
<p>Always a pleasure.</p>
<p>“Here,” the man spoke again, still gruff, but equally as kind, smoke drifting on his breath. “Open up. Chew careful and slow, alright? Your teeth and jaw are probably a fucking mess but broth on top of that water would make you heave. You need something solid to help absorb the fluids.”</p>
<p>Doing as he was told, Gin shivered a little at the warmth of mildly flavored fried rice hit his tongue, tender, tender meat exhausting to chew. Still, this lovely stranger seemed to know what he was talking about, so he was careful.</p>
<p>Gin wasn’t normally careful with his garbage heap of a body, but he could be if this sunshine bright man asked him to in that quiet voice.</p>
<p>Normally, he wouldn’t care much, but perhaps the starvation and dehydration had made him weak, made him suggestible in a way he had never been before. It seemed such a waste to deny this soft eyed pale creature what he wanted when Gin had experienced worse pains and discomfort in his life. That was just from what he could actively <em>remember</em>, and he had bullet holes he couldn’t place in his life scarred across his body.</p>
<p>Perhaps he was a fever dream, a blessed hallucination as Gin lay dying.</p>
<p>That would be nice.</p>
<p>Unlikely, but nice.</p>
<p>After a handful of bites Gin felt his stomach cramp uncomfortably and the lovely man must have seen something in his face because he simply set the meal aside. Gently coaxed him into taking another careful sip of water with those soft hands and almost words a low mumble.</p>
<p>The kind pale man in the suit slid him gently off his lap but instead of moving to get up seated himself comfortably cross-legged and lit another cigarette. Distractedly running a pale, slim fingered hand back through golden hair in a motion that Gin found his eyes locked onto.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” he repeated, because he felt it needed to be said even if inflating heavy lungs was a trial. “For your generosity.”</p>
<p>Even if Gin was patiently waiting to die, he didn’t really want to feel the hollow ache of emptiness and almost madness of hunger <em>until</em> he finally hit that moment. The pain inside his lungs was bad enough, really, that having a bone deep ache of need-to-eat as well was just overkill.</p>
<p>“’S just common decency,” was muttered back by that low, smooth voice. “Don’t mention it. Seriously, <em>don’t</em>. I get enough shit from the other cooks as it is.”</p>
<p>Perhaps it was the light, but when the man tilted his head away slightly, Gin could have sworn he saw some color in those smooth cheeks. Those elegant cheekbones a soft definitive curve of cream dashed with pink that just highlighted the contours of his face. A minute amount of stubble was a glimmer of pale gold along his jawline, framing that youthful face softly.</p>
<p><em>Cute</em>.</p>
<p>If this was a hallucination, it was the best one Gin had ever had.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you have a pleasant morning Fisch!</p>
<p>Grammar and Typos!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On second thought, bringing Don to the Baratie was a monumentally bad idea that should have occurred to him before. This was why he was not a planning man and generally made sure that people died instead of <em>didn’t </em>die.</p>
<p>When he made plans they never seemed to work out for anyone involved.</p>
<p>What he should have done was let them all slowly starve until they all went crazy enough to resort to cannibalism and then died. That would have been the better option with the added bonus of Gin not even having to do much to make it happen.</p>
<p>But Gin <em>hadn’t </em>done that, and now there was a whole mess going on.</p>
<p>Damnit Don.</p>
<p>Everyone <em>else</em> would be fine <em>except</em> for Don, cowed by Gin’s previous rule laying, which had involved numerous broken bones on their parts. A few mulched bodies tossed overboard. Pearl didn’t generally go for violence first, a gentle soul unless confronted with his unfortunate phobia and Don’s instigation.</p>
<p>He was more of a cornered animal than a cruel man, Pearl. A child at heart who just wanted Don’s approval and protection.</p>
<p>Don, not so much.</p>
<p>Megalomaniac asshole.</p>
<p>“We’ll kill them all!”</p>
<p>Gin felt his brows rise up high on his normally apathetic features at the emphasis and then he sighed as Don barked out orders. All that maniacal laughter was really kinda off-putting and more than a little bit stereotypical of a ‘villainous pirate’ like Don Krieg.</p>
<p>Murder and mayhem were all well and good, but…</p>
<p>Golden hair glinted in the sunlight, a beacon atop the lovely man who had been kind enough to feed him. Despite what his fellow cooks would have wanted, despite what practically anyone else would have done for a starving pirate.</p>
<p>His mentor had done the same when Don decided to be a huge asshole and demand shit he could have easily paid for if he weren’t such a shit. As the one in the worst shape out of the crew Gin hadn’t been quick enough to stop Don from barging in like the self-important ass that he was.</p>
<p>Not the best <em>second </em>impression he’d made, and it was weird that his first – as a slightly less mobile almost corpse – was better. He’d spent the majority of <em>that</em> time staring up at his savior like a lovesick buffoon waiting for the pleasant fever dream to end in painful death.</p>
<p>Now his employer was trying to taint that oh-so nice memory because he recognized long hat guy – who <em>was </em>vaguely familiar – and wanted to steal a fucking <em>barge</em>.</p>
<p>Why did everything go to shit all the time?</p>
<p>Fucking Fate.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that,” Gin stated laconically, enjoying the sudden ensuing silence. His head was aching enough as it was without all the cackling and yelling; he was still so fucking dehydrated it wasn’t even funny. “Sorry Don.”</p>
<p>“Gin, you’re betraying me?” Don sounded shocked, angered.</p>
<p>And yes, <em>betrayed</em>.</p>
<p>The rest of the crew was whispering amongst themselves, however, as if suddenly worried about something. Not acting as if he’d killed their kitten and then wiped their faces in the remains to top off the emotional trauma.</p>
<p>Gin was pretty sure that Don thought of him more as a possession than a person, so this reaction was ridiculously overdone.</p>
<p>“Nah.”</p>
<p>“You’re… <em>not </em>betraying him?” the long-nosed kid with the shitty bandana asked unsurely. “But you just said you weren’t gonna do it!”</p>
<p>Well, Gin guessed he could see how that was a bit contradictory to someone who didn’t have all the facts in hand.</p>
<p>Like that he didn’t have much in the way of ambition or desires, but he still had a few principles and ruining the livelihood of someone who had helped him was against them. Of course, he fully admitted to himself that this was because his savior was really pretty and hadn’t treated him like day old garbage that had been sitting in the sun. Gin was fully aware that he still stank of a mixture of salt, slightly cooked skin and unpleasant body odors that came from captivity in a cell.</p>
<p>To be honest if he could smell things with more frequency he’d probably wish that he couldn’t.</p>
<p>“I’m not betraying him because I’m terminating my contract of service,” he spoke evenly, plainly, tired and hollow feeling. “He was never my Captain in the sense you think; he was my employer.”</p>
<p>“You traitorous little –”</p>
<p>Body shifting before his conscious mind could adjust, he batted the spike out of the air and into the water with his tonfa. His joints were creaky, and something was grinding in his shoulder in an unfortunate way, but this failing walking corpse of his was still spry enough to do <em>that. </em>One of his lungs wheezed heavier than the other at the motion, like half of a bellows fan with a hole in it.</p>
<p>“Oh. <em>Rude</em>,” he muttered in return as his muscle memory kept him moving, every action grinding pain. “This isn’t actually <em>complicated</em>.”</p>
<p>“You’re a mercenary,” the old pirate, Zeff spoke from where he was standing by the rest of the Baratie cooks. “Why sign on with a pirate crew at all?”</p>
<p>“Seemed like the thing to do at the time,” honestly, he hadn’t particularly enjoyed it – didn’t enjoy much of anything – but it kept him occupied until his body finally gave out and died on him. “Didn’t have anything else lined up and I’ve certainly had <em>worse</em> gigs.”</p>
<p>“Why’d you lead them here?”</p>
<p>Gin glanced over at the pretty blonde man who’d shown him kindness in a world that was sorely lacking it and quirked a lopsided grin. The man blinked and looked away quickly, that probably imagined glimpse of pink on his high cheekbones. Gin looked more like old boot leather than anything else on a <em>good </em>day, so he probably seemed a bit creepy, smiling like that.</p>
<p>Perhaps there was a time when he could have been considered attractive, but he was half emaciated, covered in scars, unshaved and dirty. Plus lacking a certain amount of personality. He must have been nice to look at when he was younger and less likely to be called a zombie when seen at night, for someone to pay to fuck him.</p>
<p>Honestly couldn’t say if he cared what he looked like these days, but he didn’t care about much.</p>
<p>“Well, Don can be an ass,” he mused, taking a shallow breath. “But the rest are alright most of the time.”</p>
<p>The men he’d been in charge of all seemed flattered at the words and were in various cases trying to wave him off embarrassedly from the wreckage of the ship. An odd experience for Gin, considering he couldn’t remember ever complimenting them before. With his memory, who knew though? While he didn’t think he had a particularly giving personality – what there was of one – but maybe he handed out praise like candy in a parade.</p>
<p>Sure, they didn’t <em>act </em>like he did, but what did he know.</p>
<p>“I mean, I killed off all the problematic ones. So the ones who are left are decent enough for shitty pirates working under an egotistical sociopath.”</p>
<p>More nodding in agreement from the peanut gallery and talking amongst themselves from the crewmembers he <em>hadn’t </em>needed to murder. A few he couldn’t remember the names of were even starting to spout stories in example of particularly gruesome cases that he’d need to remove.</p>
<p>There’d been someone who liked to collect the teeth of kids he –? Well. No wonder he’d killed that guy by keelhauling.</p>
<p>“K-K-K<em>illed</em>?” squeaked the long-nosed kid.</p>
<p>Gin shrugged tiredly, watching the rubber kid with the familiar name launch himself at Don where he was ranting about loyalty.</p>
<p>As if paying someone who’d signed a contract and regularly did sweeps to kill off shitty new crewmembers was someone expected to owe you something. Honestly, if Don had ended up being one of those shitty perverts instead of someone with delusions of grandeur Gin would’ve offed him too.</p>
<p>And then been on his merry way <em>somewhere else </em>to go die slowly <em>there</em>.</p>
<p>He was <em>pretty</em> sure that the Devil Fruit kid was related to a Marine, he just couldn’t remember which one at the moment. Probably didn’t matter too much, because most things really <em>didn’t </em>matter when there was no goal in life other than maybe not dying in his own fluids.</p>
<p>Dying in general was fine. But drowning in his own juices was a bit overdone in his family, honestly.</p>
<p>Things were… a little blurry after that, but it involved motherfucking <em>Hawkeyes</em> again, Pearl having a breakdown he’d needed to take care of and inhaling a shit ton of questionable gas. Hurt like licking electrified barbed wire, but pain was an old acquaintance of his that never took the memo that he’d really like it to lose his address and forget he’d ever existed.</p>
<p>Eh, his lungs were already fucked, it was fine. Blood was a more common taste to him than anything else in his life. Gin might have hallucinated pinning that pretty cook to the deck, but he wasn’t totally sure. There was vague phantom sensation of warmth in his hands and along the inside of his thighs that seemed kinda nice.</p>
<p>Maybe he was having a fucking stroke, who knew?</p>
<p>Next thing he knew – blink and then miss it – he was on another island listening to the orange haired girl tell them to fuck off and die. A sentiment he could get behind but also she seemed to completely not mean it; that was a lot of trauma all at once. Gin had stabbed himself a few times before – sometimes on purpose, sometimes not – and it definitely took motivation.</p>
<p>Survival instinct were powerful things.</p>
<p>He would know, it was basically the only reason he was alive other than Fate getting a laugh out of his suffering.</p>
<p>Vaguely, he thought he remembered something about Fish Men.</p>
<p>Which, it’d been a while since he’d fought a Fish Man but he was pretty sure if he were just trying to kill one he’d be fine. Fighting was different, they definitely had more stamina than him, but if he just went for the kill he wouldn’t be overwhelmed by their superior strength. Hey, if they dragged Gin underwater maybe he’d just drown. That’d be nice, if only drowning wasn’t an awful way to go.</p>
<p>Man, he was tired.</p>
<p>“Why am I here?” he asked quietly as he stared up at the sky with furrowed brows. “And why don’t we just snipe them and get it out of the way?”</p>
<p>He’d take that stroke right about now.</p>
<p>“You got dragged along by Luffy when Krieg said he was gonna kill you. And then you stabbed Krieg <em>through the face</em> because he tried to kill Sanji,” one of the little bounty hunters told him in the flat way that said he mostly hadn’t processed it yet. “It was extremely disgusting and terrifying for everyone involved. I have never seen brain matter go flying like that and I never want to again. Also, I’m pretty sure that using a sniper rifle to kill people is super dishonorable.”</p>
<p>Gin just blinked at the man, confused.</p>
<p>Who in the what now?</p>
<p>Oh, was <em>that </em>what was on his hand? Grey matter? Eh, getting it out of his nailbeds would be a bitch and hopefully someone would remind him to wash his hands before he ate next.</p>
<p>Cannibalism was a last resort, and Don probably didn’t have much nutritional value anyway.</p>
<p>“Luffy? Sanji?”</p>
<p>The man pointed incredulously at the people in question, and Gin tried to settle those names in his head. In all honesty, he probably wouldn’t remember them if they weren’t pounded into his head by weeks of repetition.</p>
<p>Which he doubted was going to happen.</p>
<p>“<em>Oh</em>. You mean Giggles and Sunshine.”</p>
<p>Definitely easier to remember them by those characteristics than by names he’d probably forget in a few hours.</p>
<p>The apparent Sanji – Sunshine just seemed to fit better – coughed from where he’d been arguing with Sword Guy, who’d fought Hawkeyes and only <em>nearly</em> been bisected. Gin had never had someone nearly cut him in half, but he’d had someone try and cut his hand off once. He imagined they were equal amounts of fun to experience and he was passably curious about how Sword Guy wasn’t unconscious from blood loss.</p>
<p>While Gin’s body might hate him almost as much as Fate did, he was pretty sure that most people didn’t just walk around like that.</p>
<p>“Also, who gives a shit about honor?” he slouched tiredly, hands in pockets. Hmm, when did he get money? “I kill people for money and so do you.”</p>
<p>As the bounty hunters sputtered at him in offense, he decided that he was too tired for this bullshit and eased himself to the ground in something like a controlled fall. If they were going to be stupidly chivalrous or whatever about this then he was just going to sit here and let them do the work. He was mostly sure that he wasn’t getting paid for this, and his lungs were doing that thing where it felt like something was tearing inside.</p>
<p>Gin was tired.</p>
<p>It had been a long… however long it had been. He had brains on his hand, new poison on top of <em>old</em> poison damage in his lungs, and his joints were trying to turn his cartilage into powder.</p>
<p>At least the ground had never failed on him, unlike pretty much everything else. And this tree, this tree had never spasmed so hard that he’d broken fingers because of it, unlike his own muscles.</p>
<p>“Wake me up if you die,” he muttered as he leaned against that trustworthy tree. “Or don’t, whatever.”</p>
<p>Part of him was aware that he was probably a bit delirious, but he didn’t really care.</p>
<p>Either way, he was too fatigued to do much in the way of anything at the moment. The pain was a familiar dull ache, but there really wasn’t too much he could do about it, considering he didn’t particularly carry pharmaceuticals in his pockets. He only had surprise money in what he was pretty sure had been empty pockets before.</p>
<p>Vaguely, he wondered what happened to his stuff that had survived on Don’s ship and if there had been anything important in it.</p>
<p>Part of him said yes, but he couldn’t remember what.</p>
<p>His marked leg itched momentarily before falling to the wayside under all the other aches and pains his stupid physical form gifted him with.</p>
<p>“Hey, Gin-san,” a familiar, smooth voice spoke as a hand touched his shoulder. “We’re moving.”</p>
<p>Grunting wetly, he blinked open sore eyes, ignoring the dry feeling of them as was usual, gaze catching on golden hair and blue-green eyes.</p>
<p>“Hey, Sunshine.”</p>
<p>Someone snorted in the background as Sanji pulled back with a scowl, rubbing a slim hand over his face as he did so. The world was too bright even through the trees, but it made the strands of blond hair shimmer prettily. Really, what a lucky thing to meet someone lovely <em>and</em> kind before his inevitably agonizing end on some backwater somewhere.</p>
<p>Still, despite his apparent offense at the title the cook still held out one of those gentle hands to give him help back to standing. Gin was peripherally aware that a lot of men didn’t like being called things that could make them seem not stereotypically masculine. While he didn’t have time for that shit, he wasn’t quite able to make his brain to mouth filter care about Sanji’s embarrassment.</p>
<p>Mostly, he could only think it was cute, because he didn’t seem <em>too </em>upset.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” rasped thickly out of his throat as he let the cook steady him once he was standing. “I guess we’re not dead yet.”</p>
<p>“Not yet,” was the dry response. “But probably soon.”</p>
<p>“Oh, good.”</p>
<p>The walk was mostly a haze of a steady hand leaving and returning to his elbow at random intervals to guide him forwards toward their destination. Gin wasn’t worried about falling over once he got going, muscle memory keeping him going until his body just <em>wouldn’t </em>anymore. He wasn’t quite at that point yet, but he was sure he’d be close enough after the fighting that he’d just lay down in the street wherever.</p>
<p>“Am I getting paid for this?” he asked Sunshine, who was keeping him from running into one of the terrified bounty hunters. “Because I’d really rather shoot them.”</p>
<p>“Nami’s sister fed you,” Sword Guy said from up front of him. “And you said that worked too.”</p>
<p>Oh, yeah, that sounded like him.</p>
<p>“And Luffy said he wanted to beat them up, not shoot them,” the swordsman continued after a moment. “Since he’s the Captain, if he says don’t scope them, we don’t.”</p>
<p>Sighing heavily, he blinked tired eyes at the fast-approaching ugly building and the crowd of people at the gates.</p>
<p>“Well, I don’t know where my shit is anyway,” swallowing was not fun, but coughing would be worse. “So I guess this is fine.”</p>
<p>It’d be more work, but maybe it’d kill him. Hey, that was a thought.</p>
<p>Maybe he’d die.</p>
<p>Oh, great, people were screaming. His head was already killing him couldn’t they just <em>not</em> do that why were they even.</p>
<p>“It’s the Man-Demon!”</p>
<p>Wait, that was familiar. Why was that…</p>
<p>“Gin the Man-Demon is here!”</p>
<p>Right. That. That was thing that people called him and he couldn’t remember when that had happened exactly, but it had. It was on his bounty poster wasn’t it? The one he hadn’t gotten until he’d started babysitting Don’s murderous shit-stain of a crew until they were only murderous most of the time and not as shitty.</p>
<p>“I hate when they do that,” he muttered, letting Sanji maneuver him around the panicked crowd of bodies. “All that screaming.”</p>
<p>“That’s what happens when you have a reputation as a free for all murderer,” the cook said in that low voice of his, seeming both amused and uncomfortable. “And get associated with fuckers like Don Krieg, who kills kids.”</p>
<p>“Not when I was there,” he absently corrected. “It was part of the contract. I think.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, they said your memory was shit but <em>wow</em>.”</p>
<p><em>They? </em>He had time to think before the Fish Men became an issue.</p>
<p>As usual, his body kept him from getting too much more damage than what he’d already sustained. He remembered shooting a chain out of his tonfa to grab the weird mouth guy when he tried to go after Bandana. He remembered asking Tangerine Girl if she wanted him to kill the Fish Man in his grasp because she had the most say in it, honestly.</p>
<p>Giggles could get upset all he liked, but he probably didn’t know what it meant to lose bodily autonomy.</p>
<p>“You say yes,” he rasped, blood bubbling up the back of his throat. “I’m gonna do it. Best be sure.”</p>
<p>There was a vaguely familiar blue haired girl a bit older than her knelt at her side, and Tangerine girl glanced up at her for a moment before swallowing. Her eyes hardened and she bared her teeth at the broken armed, choking thing in his grasp that was begging for mercy.</p>
<p>“<em>Please</em>.”</p>
<p>Snapping a neck was easy. Doing it in a way that made something die instantly rather than simply become paralyzed and wait for death a little more complicated but Gin had plenty of practice.</p>
<p>The little sob of relief she released made him wonder vaguely if he should murder the rest of them after the others were done with them.</p>
<p>He’d never much liked slavery, and it was the will of the freed that kept the chains from becoming someone else’s noose.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Oddly enough, Giggles didn’t get upset that he offed the Fish Man. Probably because Tangerine Girl admitted to it being her choice.</p>
<p>The way she’d looked after that had made Gin kinda figure that he was gonna kill the rest of them too when he had a minute more of breath in his lungs. Most of the fight was seen through foggy eyes as Bandana hid behind him with the girl while he kept the idiot villagers from getting slaughtered. Like, he’d seen worse, but apparently he was working with these young not-quite-idealistic teenagers, so he should probably be… Less <em>him</em>.</p>
<p>Besides, he <em>did</em> get to see the lovely sight of Sunshine all drenched in water and looking delicious before he and Sword Guy were too tired to do much else. For once he wasn’t the only one in a pool of his own blood, although he was still the only one coughing it up.</p>
<p>They seemed to assume it was from Don’s poison, and Gin really didn’t have the energy to change their minds when his body was going through the motions like this.</p>
<p>Still, it was nice to find a spot to lay down in the interim as all the civilians figured out what to do with themselves at the defeat of their slavers. A party apparently was the first thought they had when Gin honestly probably would have dealt with cleanup and stealing all the Arlong Pirates shit.</p>
<p>Priorities.</p>
<p>Speaking of.</p>
<p>He wasn’t even aware that he’d reached into his pocket before he was pulling out a piece of paper that had been included with the beli.</p>
<p>
  <em>I hired you to retrieve the money that the Marines stole from Nami. I don’t care how you get it back, but she paid years of servitude for it and those corrupt bastards took <strong>everything</strong>.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Bring it back and leave that ship a ghost for all I care.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>- Nojiko</em>
</p>
<p>Huh.</p>
<p>Alright then. Looked like he had both an explanation for the money and a job to do when he could stand up again. Keeping the note in hand so that he wouldn’t forget what his body had prompted him to remember, Gin blinked up at the slowly darkening sky.</p>
<p>Better to steal a boat at night and go for the one he could see anchored out off the coast, likely waiting for some kind of payoff from Arlong.</p>
<p>Hmm.</p>
<p>Yeah, okay, he could take care of that first actually.</p>
<p>Heaving himself back to his feet he stumbled for a moment, wheezing slightly before he hacked and coughed out some partially coagulated blood. Ah, he was already starting to heal the new damage and had accrued some lovely new scarring to add on top of all the other shit in his body. It was the work of a moment to step away from the crowd that had apparently suddenly deemed him a nonissue and towards the remnants of that once really ugly building.</p>
<p>If there was a payoff, there was definitely going to be a good chunk of change in there.</p>
<p>A lot of it was probably stuff that belonged to the people of the village and whatever bits Tangerine Girl had been bringing back for her master. Always a nice kick in the teeth when your shit was used to keep your own people subjugated with the assistance of the fucking Government.</p>
<p>Lifting beams and debris out of the way absently he got a basic understanding for what must have been the layout of the place. It wasn’t too hard to figure out where the shitty nosed shark would have kept his big scores and even less work to haul the chests – how stereotypical – out onto clear ground. There was some interesting stuff in here now that he was looking, and a number of maps probably made by Tangerine Girl.</p>
<p>… Should he be calling her Map Girl? Mmnah. Tangerine fit better.</p>
<p>Huh, Log Pose. That could come in handy. Should leave that with someone before he went off and – and… fuck.</p>
<p>His hand patted his pocket to remind him, and a quick glance at the note reaffirmed that he <em>did </em>have something to do that night. Both Log Pose and note returned to his pocket and Gin continued scouring for the most obvious things while he still had the foresight to do so.</p>
<p>“Hey, Gin-san!”</p>
<p>Oh, it was Sunshine.</p>
<p>Turning from where he was absently holding up a collapsed section with one hand and crouched down snapping the door off a safe, he blinked at the blonde man.</p>
<p>“Yeah?” he rasped dully.</p>
<p>Blue-green eyes ran over him for a long moment, focusing on his propping hand before flitting down to look at the broken safe. The pretty cook cleared his throat and looked away from him to fumble a cigarette out of his pack and light it.</p>
<p>“There’s gonna be food soon. You should eat something light while I’m still cooking so the bottomless pit doesn’t steal it.”</p>
<p>At the mention of food he felt his bones squirm under his skin. Gin yanked the opened safe out from under the shit he was holding up, so it was easier to get to before he stood and easily let the debris fall with a <em>bang </em>that trembled through the ground slightly.</p>
<p>As he walked over to look down into those clear eyes, he was momentarily sidetracked by the flicker of Sanji’s tongue over his bottom lip before the young man placed his cigarette in his mouth. The scowl that slid onto pretty features was kinda cute, as was the worried way that the cook looked over his swaying frame.</p>
<p>“You cookin’, Sunshine?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” he scoffed, scowling harder and taking a drag. “And don’t call me that. My name’s <em>Sanji</em>.”</p>
<p>“I’ll forget,” Gin told him absently, letting that slim, soft hand grasp his elbow again. “’S easier to call you Sunshine.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, right,” rolling his eyes irritably, Sanji nonetheless gently guided him back towards town. “You’re probably just lazy.”</p>
<p>Was he? Hmm, maybe.</p>
<p>Gin couldn’t say one way or the other since he didn’t remember the majority of his days really, at least not in coherent pieces. Everything in everyday existence seemed to slur together after a while, but some things stuck with him, and he could usually tell which things would.</p>
<p>Like he could say that he would never forget meeting Sunshine, who glowed above him, hands gentle and low voice soft.</p>
<p>He could forget his hunger, could lose track of why his body did things, what hurt him and why he had brain matter on his hands, but he didn’t think he’d lose that. Not any time soon, anyway, considering he could call it up with startling clarity to peruse the way that the lines of Sanji’s suit then had extended the elegant lines of his body. How his mouth at been soft with concern and brows crinkled with gentle worry for <em>Gin, </em>as if he <em>mattered.</em></p>
<p>“What can I eat this time?” fell from his mouth like the creak of a rusty hinge. “Since you’re the expert.”</p>
<p>Side-eyeing him almost suspiciously but apparently not finding anything <em>too</em> objectionable on Gin’s craggy face, the cook huffed.</p>
<p>“I’ve got a light broth and some soft bread for you. More water and some painkillers from the doctor. I don’t care how much you argue, you’re <em>not </em>in any condition to be drinking alcohol.”</p>
<p>Oh.</p>
<p>He hadn’t expected that middle bit, really. That cold, heavy thing in his chest turned over and the corner of his mouth tugged oddly.</p>
<p>“Thanks, Sunshine.”</p>
<p>“What did I <em>just </em>say?”</p>
<p>“I have no idea. What did you say?”</p>
<p>He had murder to do later, but for now, this was a less shitty thing to do. Eat stuff that wouldn’t make him sick, take something to maybe take the edge off the sticky feeling in his chest and stare at a handsome guy.</p>
<p>Gin’d had worse days.</p>
<p>“You motherfucker!”</p>
<p>“God I hope not.”</p>
<p>“Oh, why would you <em>even</em> –”</p>
<p>“No, wait, I was too young for that when she died –”</p>
<p>“Gin-san will you kindly <em>shut the fuck up</em>.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For Fisch, as always. She rekindled my interest, however briefly.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For once, losing time didn’t have that vaguely horrific chill sinking down in his chest.</p>
<p>How novel.</p>
<p>He remembers that the food he ate when it was forced into his hands was delicious, even if he doesn’t remember actually eating it. Or quite what it was. It lingers with a savory tenacity that Gin savors with all of his shriveled heart, even though he feels a little too full. It had slaked his thirst gently and filled the brittle cracks in his tongue even as his skin felt too stretched with actual nutrition to use.</p>
<p>Sanji had sat next to him whenever he’d take a break from cooking, at some waiting phase, and the sight of firelight flickering on pale cheeks had been pleasant, to say the least. Pale lashes and pretty eyes had been illuminated, features relaxed and easy in a way that Gin found he quite liked the look of. Something that was normally pulled taught inside had eased at the presence of the younger man next to him in ways he wasn’t sure how to define.</p>
<p>Gin’s sense of smell was touch and go, so his taste buds usually didn’t get much use in a positive direction – fuel was fuel – but he’d caught the subtle scent of cologne. Not much, mostly washed off by Sanji’s delightful dip, and it was only when the man was leaning towards Gin with an offended frown at his nickname or laughing brightly at something that he got a whiff.</p>
<p>He didn’t mind the invasion of his personal space in this case, not when it partially meant that those skilled, long fingered hands would wrap his hands around a miraculously refilled mug of hot tea. It was soothing against the ache in his chest, the discomfort of a full belly and the throbbing in his skull from the noise of the party. It seemed that Sunshine had gotten into a habit of putting a hand on Gin’s elbow every time he stood, because each fuzzy memory involved a patch of heat through his sleeve.</p>
<p>Every breath was more of a cutting pain inside than usual, but the wetness in his lungs had at least drifted passed active bleeding and into coagulating. Sure, it made the building urge to cough a bit of a pain, but Gin had been around this block a time or two and knew how to hack <em>just</em> right so he didn’t tear something. Tear it again, that is.</p>
<p>Probably not actually a marketable skill, but it was one of his most useful. Well, aside from the killing thing. And the unfortunately not dying bit.</p>
<p>Actually, he was probably the only who found this one particularly important. Most people didn’t grate their own internal organs by breathing wrong, he was pretty sure.</p>
<p>All of that, as pleasant as time with Sunshine had been, had little to do with his current situation.</p>
<p>Gin was sure that there was more he was forgetting, but as it was, he didn’t much care in the moment as he dragged the last trunk of treasure to the deck. Something told him that there was more loot here than had been implied in the note he’d squinted at amongst the pile of bodies surrounding him. Had the Marines been racketeering the nearby islands as well? It sounded like something the rat faced fuck he’d just pulverized would do.</p>
<p>That Marine had looked like something of a screamer – in no <em>interesting</em> context, thankfully – so he’d gotten rid of him right quick. No need for unnecessary nonsense echoing over the water and making all the civilians get upset over blood in the water.</p>
<p>More than pondering on the differences in the loot he was <em>yoink</em>ing, he was wondering when he’d left the comfortable barrel he’d been seated on. A glance at the sky told him it was well into the early/late stage of the day, the moon a distant glint of ethereal shame on the horizon, familiar unfamiliar stars on display.</p>
<p>They were different in North Blue.</p>
<p>He had stark memories of sitting amongst a group of other children in the woods outside of the city and staring up at the stars. Of maps handed out amongst them and games to identify constellations with candy prizes and little hands tracing out trails. On the Blues was the only place you could reliably navigate by the stars, and for his family it had been imperative to know how to navigate their home sea.</p>
<p>There was no reason to go back to North Blue though; nothing there waiting for him to find it. Or them.</p>
<p>Everyone else was dead, so these too clear memories were <em>useless</em>, just like this failing body of his didn’t do anyone any good. Least of him.</p>
<p>Gin hadn’t learned these constellations the way he’d been taught them back when his memory had been reliable, as a child. He could name a few for reasons beyond him, but most of this sky was unknown to him, a stranger on a sea he’d never meant to come to. Who ever would have taught him such things? Probably useless information he’d overheard somewhere from someone he’d met just once.</p>
<p>His skin felt too bare, even though it was covered and out of sight.</p>
<p>Sighing carefully, he listed slightly to the side to lean against the railing of the ship, pushing a corpse to the side with his foot idly. He was aching something fierce again, though he wasn’t quite shaky with hunger the way he’d been during the daylight hours. Not slowly cannibalizing himself just to survive a mad dash away from Marines and Hawkeyes for a pointless flight from death and release.</p>
<p>The air in front of his face fogged with the heat of his breath, and he wondered if he had a fever, considering it wasn’t particularly cold out.</p>
<p>Didn’t really matter.</p>
<p>If he had a fever, it’d burn itself out soon enough; they always did. His body was ruthless in its hold on life, no matter the suffering it dragged him through in keeping him so.</p>
<p>Now, to get all of this shit onto the lifeboats and then sink the ship so that he didn’t have to deal with screaming villagers in the morning. Or figure out what to do with the bodies. If it was sunk then the creatures of the sea would deal with all that pesky stuff and he wouldn’t have to worry about it.</p>
<p>There <em>was </em>quite a bit of blood everywhere, honestly. Even an admittedly morbidly humorous trail of it was dripping down the hull into the sea, staining the water a murky red even in the starlight. Huh. Looked like it was from the body he’d just shoved over. Gin had been a bit messy in taking out the night guards, he admitted, but it had been quick all things considered.</p>
<p>Where was he supposed to leave this shit, anyway? The note didn’t tell him <em>that</em>.</p>
<p>Well, whatever. He’d make do.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>He woke up to screaming – which wasn’t unusual – and someone shoving tea under his nose – which was – while he groaned into his own elbow.</p>
<p>Screaming in the morning was the <em>absolute worst</em> and Gin was ready to commit some serious murder if whoever it was didn’t nock it off. Dealing with overly raucous people when he hadn’t even managed to pry his eyes open was just <em>not okay.</em></p>
<p>Oh, he’d thought too soon, because the screaming turned into cheering and laughter and while not as offensive, it was still too loud.</p>
<p>His head ached and his chest was heavy, skin pulled tightly with – huh.</p>
<p>Wait, why was he crusted in salt?</p>
<p>“Gin-san,” a familiar, amused voice spoke lowly. The scent of tobacco and something spicy hit his nose, a sudden kick of consciousness. “It’s about time to wake up now. I’ve made breakfast.”</p>
<p>“Breakfast?” his mouth croaked in confusion as he finally deigned to move his arm enough to squint at the pretty man with the tea.</p>
<p>Oh, it was <em>him</em>. Sunshine in the morning, indeed.</p>
<p>The pounding in his head abated slightly at the sight of that soft face and golden hair, the cut of a slim jawline and curve of an amused mouth. It wasn’t so bright that he was squinting into the light, but it was just enough to halo that blond hair in a way that made Gin’s skin tingle slightly.</p>
<p>“Yes, breakfast,” dry but warm, were the words spoken to him as the man wafted tea at him again like an enticement; the way his lungs and throat felt, it really was. “That thing you eat in the morning when you wake up.”</p>
<p>Gin couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten in the morning, not that that was saying much, considering who he was and the lump in his skull called a brain. Normally he slept too late for anything of the sort to be handed to him by either innkeeper or whichever member of Don’s crew was delegated to gopher that day. Morning was almost a foreign word to his vocabulary, because he’d almost become nocturnal without anything to regulate his schedule.</p>
<p>There was no telltale pang in his stomach, so he wasn’t even sure if he was hungry enough to eat anything. Not after the memory of those hands wrapping Gin’s own beaten ones around bowls and utensils and drinks the night before.</p>
<p>He’d eaten more recently than he could remember since before Don had foolishly decided to strive for the Grand Line.</p>
<p>“I also have painkillers,” the pretty cook continued, as if Gin hadn’t responded because of <em>that</em> rather than the shock of being woken up with food. “But you have to take a few bites first at least before you take them.”</p>
<p>As if there was any salvaging the lining of Gin’s stomach. Well, the thought itself, kind and strange and oddly wonderful, had him easing his way up slowly. Regular painkillers didn’t do much more him, though the thought was a generous one that he wasn’t sure what to do with. Just like everything else that this young man had done for him after Gin had stumbled his penniless way into him and nearly starved on his doorstep.</p>
<p>Joints ground together and cracked harshly, and when he blinked both eyes laconically at sweet Sunshine, the younger man had a furrow in his distinctive brow. Almost concern, but partially displeasure, though Gin couldn’t fathom why. Even if those cracks were loud, they hadn’t been particularly uncomfortable, easy to move through.</p>
<p>All in all, he felt pretty good. Maybe a bit better than usual, actually.</p>
<p>“Come on,” one of those pale hands slid under his elbow to help him to standing without further preamble. He was pleasantly warm. “I’ve got it waiting for you over here. Luckily, the bottomless pit and the other two buffoons aren’t up yet, or I’d be worried about it being there when we get there.”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t mind too much,” Gin mused as the tea was shoved into his free hand; Sanji hadn’t released his grip on his elbow just yet. “Don’t rightly know the last time I had breakfast.”</p>
<p>Pale eyes flickered to him, bright and determined, before the cook looked forward again, walking just a touch quicker to guide them to their destination. Not that the pace was particularly difficult to keep up, Gin a bit taller than the blond was, and taking the opportunity presented to him to glance down at the lovely lines of Sanji’s profile. What a way to wake up, really.</p>
<p>Bemused but not exactly protesting, Gin let himself be led around, taking a sip of the tea carefully as he did so. The cheering appeared to be from the many chests full of treasure that were dumped in the city center.</p>
<p>Wait.</p>
<p>Those had been bloody last he remembered them and –</p>
<p>Ah, so <em>that </em>was why he was salty. A little dip to wash off the worst of it so it wasn’t so obviously blood and <em>other</em> human remains covered and stained. Gin didn’t remember putting them there, but he also didn’t remember deciding on where to put it all, so that seemed like as likely a place as any.</p>
<p>Just dumping them there seemed like something he’d do if he was fed up.</p>
<p>“So what did you do with the ship?”</p>
<p>Gin blinked blearily down at the bowl of rice with a fried egg on top that was pushed in front of him, a couple slices of oranges sitting on a small plate next to it. It smelled warm and nostalgic, but it didn’t make his touchy stomach twinge worryingly.</p>
<p>“I can’t remember the last time I had eggs,” he said thoughtfully as he set the mug on the table and picked up the provided spoon. “Also, what ship?”</p>
<p>“The Marine ship you went and plundered last night.”</p>
<p>Taking a bite of egg and rice – oh, there was a bit of butter in there too – he hummed roughly, a tad thickly, in enjoyment before he looked up at the cook. Sanji had a pleased look on his face, lips twitching as if to hold back a smile at something that Gin couldn’t name. His hands fiddled a cigarette out of a slim metal case, but the man didn’t light it or set it to that pretty, mobile mouth.</p>
<p>Suddenly, it was as if his stomach remembered that he needed food more than just when he was about to starve to death. It growled quietly, an almost questioning sound, as if the very organ itself couldn’t believe that he was receiving sustenance before it became absolutely necessary for continued function.</p>
<p>“So. Ship, Gin-san?”</p>
<p>“Hmm?” blinking down at the bowl in front of him, which had somehow become empty, his mind boggled. Losing time was par for the course but knowing that it was because he’d been focused on <em>food </em>was certainly new. “Oh, ship. Right. I sank it.”</p>
<p>Someone else entered the area and sat down, but since the cook merely glanced at them Gin kept his eyes on that pretty face.</p>
<p>“…. You… okay, just to clarify,” Sanji pointed towards the piles of treasure in the city center without looking away from Gin, his expression strange. “You went out last night to retrieve the treasure.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” he nodded agreeably, sipping his tea, which was at a better temperature to enjoy now and eased the vague cramping in his stomach. Running his tongue over the roof of his mouth, he realized he burned himself a bit with his earlier sip and just hadn’t noticed.</p>
<p>Stupid nervous system, on the fritz.</p>
<p>“You took out all the Marines on your own.”</p>
<p>“Mhmm.”</p>
<p>“And <em>then</em>, you sank the ship without waking everyone up in the process.”</p>
<p>“It’s not particularly difficult,” he told him plainly; Gin might be a little fuzzy on some particulars, but he’d quietly sank numerous ships in his life. “You break walls down below decks before you leave so water fills the lower decks quickly and there aren’t any major air pockets when it’s time to pop a hole in the hull from the outside. Just make sure you get everything of value before you do, because they sink <em>real </em>fucking quick like that and it’s a pain to go diving after it.”</p>
<p>“But,” the long nosed boy Gin couldn’t recall until he spotted the ugly bandana in his pocket spoke up. So that was who it was who joined them. “But what about the Marines?”</p>
<p>“What about them?”</p>
<p>Sanji grimaced and turned to give Bandana a sympathetic look that was met with confused eyes that widened with dawning horror.</p>
<p>“S-Sanji, when you said ‘took them out’ you meant…”</p>
<p>“I killed them,” Gin said easily, blinking when his mug was stolen – empty though it was – and another was pressed into his hands. Ah, his hands didn’t ache so much, holding that heat between his palms. “It would be cruel to let them drown with the ship, and messy to bring them onto the island alive. More trouble than it’s worth, for us and the townspeople.”</p>
<p>Bandana turned green for a moment before swallowing and biting his lip, casting a nervous but assessing eye over the numerous trunks of treasure.</p>
<p>“… Not all of that is from Nami, is it.”</p>
<p>“Marines who do shit like that tend not to just pick <em>one</em> spot to extort,” Sunshine explained almost gently as he nudged the oranges closer to Gin, a very deliberate hint to start eating. “If they can get away with <em>one, </em>they figure, why not more? People say pirates are greedy and yeah, a lot of them – us, are, but when people of ‘official authority’ fall into this kind of thing... It’s hard for civilians to oust them.”</p>
<p>“It takes all kinds,” Gin agreed. “There’s assholes in every profession, and government sanctioned doesn’t mean shit when there isn’t anyone who can or will stop them.”</p>
<p>Gin knew that better than most, he figured.</p>
<p>Flevance had burned like any other city, bar the noxious fumes, and Gin could honestly say that he had zero qualms about killing ‘innocent’ Marines when he’d heard his people screaming for mercy. When he’d had nightmares about it for years and years, when every time someone shrieked in fear he was suddenly pulled back to his childhood. To the smell of burnt flesh and decay from the people he’d once loved.</p>
<p>Maybe he wasn’t innocent or clean in any way, not anymore. Maybe he would deserve some high standing Marine’s wrath, but… The number of truly innocent – even healthy – people that had died needlessly because the Marines did what they were ordered to – or didn’t stop it – was incalculable. Something about good men and doing nothing, but all that Gin really knew was that thousands of people had died so that the World Government and its Nobles didn’t have to admit to their mistakes.</p>
<p>Chest tightening, he coughed into his hand, tasting blood on the back of his tongue as his lung protested the abuse while they were still stitching themselves together. Managed not to cough any up this time, but he felt vaguely nauseous in a way that he hadn’t just moments before as he stared down at the no longer steaming cup in his grasp.</p>
<p>Looked at his hands, which he didn’t like. Which he tried not to pay attention to.</p>
<p>His too normal, too average hands. Before, he’d dreaded the white spots that spelled his doom sooner rather than later, now he wished that he’d gotten them instead of this bullshit going on inside of him. Wished that there were some mark of the rot that he carried with him, of the people forgotten by the masses.</p>
<p>The mess of ink on his leg shivered with phantom heat, a reminder.</p>
<p>A gentle hand pulled one of his own off of the mug he was holding and settled two little white pills in it, breaking his contemplation. Across from him, Usopp was working on his own plate of food, much richer than what had been placed in front of Gin, but understandably so. He didn’t think he could take anything more than the digestive tea that Sanji was shoving at him and even the egg yolk had been a bit of a struggle.</p>
<p>Either way, Gin was still tired.</p>
<p>“Nojiko-chan offered their house for us to clean up in if you want to shower, Gin-san.”</p>
<p>“Ah. Right.”</p>
<p>Yeah, when was the last time he did that? Oh, also…</p>
<p>“What did I do with my stuff?” he mused aloud, brow furrowing thoughtfully as he tried to remember, thinking of that maybe important something in his trunk. “I need clothes.”</p>
<p>“The guys from Krieg’s crew who were still conscious –” conscious? Who had knocked them out? “– gave us your stuff. It’s in the male quarters on the Going Merry.”</p>
<p>“… and where’s that?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m just going to take you there.”</p>
<p>“It’s probably the safer option, yes.”</p>
<p>Because Gin quite honestly didn’t know what the <em>fuck </em>a Going Merry was, because no one would honestly name a ship that, right? It didn’t make sense in any grammatical format from any island that Gin was familiar with. Even he could see that, and he hadn’t even finished elementary school before he was running for his worthless life in North.</p>
<p>No.</p>
<p>No, apparently, they <em>did</em>.</p>
<p>They named that weird looking little caravel Going Merry, for some <em>unfathomable </em>reason.</p>
<p>There was probably something wrong with both them and Gin, but Gin liked to think that at least he had a sense of how to properly name things. Sure, he’d never actually named anything before, but surely even <em>he</em> could do better than some bastardization of a merry-go-round. Also, he’d really like to know why he was on this ship in the first place – Sunshine aside – because, like, they were pretty uncomfortable with… all of him.</p>
<p>Gin had those few marketable skills, and murder was pretty much the only thing people wanted from him these days. Thankfully. There wasn’t anything interesting or useful about him otherwise, and if they didn’t want him to murder people, he didn’t know why he was here.</p>
<p>It’d come up again at some point.</p>
<p>Probably.</p>
<p>Well, if it didn’t, he was sure that he’d get kicked off anyway; these people were a decent sort. The kind that couldn’t handle him for long stretches of time because they couldn’t ‘change him for the better’ as a few ‘well meaning’ types had tried.</p>
<p>Gin was Gin.</p>
<p>There wasn’t anything better to find in him.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Life with the Strawhat pirates was strangely relaxing.</p>
<p>Like a vacation from the realities of the world or a very detailed, very ridiculous kind of hallucination that Gin didn’t want to wake up from.</p>
<p>He didn’t have to worry about someone trying to murder him on the sly. Or to his face. He didn’t have to worry about someone getting handsy or rapey. Didn’t have to cull the herd of reprobates. He didn’t have to tell them how to do their jobs or do their jobs for them. He didn’t need to take night watch to make sure that someone actually took it instead of sleeping until the Marines were on them.</p>
<p>Hell, he didn’t even have to do most of the fighting, and he was perfectly fine with that. Let the younger generation deal with all that bullshit, Gin was fucking <em>tired</em>.</p>
<p>Half the time when he blinked back into himself, he had a stack of darned socks in front of him and a cup of tea at his side. If it wasn’t socks it was torn shorts and shirts and on one occasion Sword Guy’s haramaki. At one point, he’d found himself hemming a pair of Sanji’s pants for his ridiculously long legs and the man had turned beat red at the sight of it.</p>
<p>That had been interesting.</p>
<p>More often than not, he found himself ushered into a chair next to Tangerine Girl and given a task to keep his hands busy. Sanji got weird when Gin found himself in the kitchen doing dishes or cutting up things needed for whatever dish was marked on the calendar he kept in there. Maybe he couldn’t remember most things, but he knew how to peel potatoes and chop onions; hell, it didn’t even make him get teary eyed.</p>
<p>That would require him to have liquid in his eyes, and he suffered from some pretty persistent dry eye.</p>
<p>In the past few weeks Gin had eaten more regularly and healthily than he had since he was ten years old, and it showed. Even if he still had bruises and bags under his eyes, it didn’t look like he stored spare change there anymore and his lips weren’t constantly swollen and cracked with dehydration. The planes of his face – when he could be bothered to look during a shave – weren’t as defined solely by his bone structure. His teeth didn’t feel loose and his gum color was pretty good from getting the proper amount of vitamins in him.</p>
<p>Slowly but surely, he was filling out again. At all? It was weird, not being able to see his ribs individually as his padding built up with muscle and a slow growing layer of fat.</p>
<p>All in all, it was a pretty good time, much better than anything else that he even remotely could recall from his past.</p>
<p>As it was, he was currently staring down Doke no Buggy and wondering just what it was that this man was playing at. They’d met a few times over the years, the first time being before Gin had been strongarmed into Don’s crew, and they hadn’t hated each other.</p>
<p>“Hey! Knife Guy!” Gin was mildly irritated at the appearance of the older man as he walked into the square. “What are you doing with Giggles?”</p>
<p>“Wh – <em>Gin</em>?!” finely penciled in brows rose high as the clown themed pirate saw him. “It <em>is </em>you! What the hell are you… wait. Did you say<em> Giggles</em>? Is – is this idiot <em>yours</em>?”</p>
<p>“It’s him!” someone cried in the crowd even as Buggy slowly lowered his sword in shock. “The Man Demon!”</p>
<p>“Gin the Man Demon!”</p>
<p>Ugh, screaming.</p>
<p>“Yeah, mine,” he coughed lightly, wondering vaguely why his hands smelled like flour as he absently swallowed blood. “So take your hands off. Well. You know what I mean.”</p>
<p>“Fucking puns. Well, shit,” Buggy scowled down at his lowered sword as the clouds twisted above them. “Guess there’s no point in –”</p>
<p>Lightning struck blindly and then everything went to shit. <em>Again</em>.</p>
<p>What was <em>wrong </em>with these people? What was it about Giggles that made Smokey make such an ugly face, when he’d never even looked at the one labeled Man Demon like that? Luffy was literally a child without a single mean bone in his body.</p>
<p>Wait, did he still technically have <em>bones </em>if he was made of rubber? Because if all of him was effected, what exactly what it that was the firm support structure for his body?</p>
<p>… Yeah, not getting into Devil Fruit bullshit was probably a better option than trying to puzzle that out.</p>
<p>As for Buggy, that guy liked to test East Rookies that had delusions of grandeur to make sure that they wouldn’t faceplant against Reverse Mountain like so much chum. Weird for him to chase one passed his ring of islands used for the performances, and to <em>Logue Town </em>of all places. Buggy notoriously never went there despite its popularity amongst pirates, but there really <em>was </em>something about Giggles that drew attention towards him.</p>
<p>Not like Sanji drew Gin’s attention, obviously. To be honest, he hadn’t looked at anyone else with that kind of interest since he’d been gifted the chance to stare at that pretty face every day.</p>
<p>For reasons Gin still wasn’t too clear on.</p>
<p>That ability to look, not the interest. That was clear as day.</p>
<p>There was a lot to like about Sunshine, and Gin seemed to be finding something every time he turned around and the man was there with a scowl on soft lips, cigarette between his teeth and a snack in hand. He liked to hum when he was cooking, usually something popular in East, but occasionally something older from North would fall from his lips and Gin would let himself bask.</p>
<p>The man bargained with the News Coos and supplemented delivery fees for snacks and refreshments that he’d have given them anyway. He got up early not only to start breakfast for everyone, but also to do stretches and a few katas where no one could see.</p>
<p>It was –</p>
<p>Well. Gin was as close to content as he could be when he was rotting from the inside and getting to turn his face into the sun one last time and not be blinded. Being able to catch a glimpse of how flexible his savior was, one leg in the air and spine arched… was something of a gift, really.</p>
<p>Sure, he often received red-faced sputtering when discovered to have been watching, but it was worth the way the man would hurry off with a scowl.</p>
<p>So despite the slapdash escape from Smokey and Logue Town, Gin wasn’t <em>completely </em>exasperated with these young fools he’d somehow ended up with.</p>
<p>Zoro asked him to spar sometimes and didn’t mind when Gin summarily handed his own ass to him quickly because stamina was his nemesis. Swords against tonfa was interesting at times, and the Pirate Hunter recognized that at some point Gin had been trained with them even if they weren’t his weapon of choice. If there was heavy lifting to do, it was generally Sword Guy and Gin who were doing it.</p>
<p>Nami liked to ask him random questions that he usually knew the answer to but couldn’t tell here where he’d learned it for the life of him. At night, if she’d had problems sleeping, she generally found her way to the crow’s nest if Gin was in there, and they’d talk about those useless constellations Gin remembered.</p>
<p>Luffy said that he reminded him of his brother but also not, and sometimes he asked Gin to throw him as high as he could. The kid tried to pull him into any number of games and seemed to make it a mission to get a laugh out of Gin at least once a day. Which was strange and bemusing and also a little bit nice if he thought about it.</p>
<p>Usopp had handed him a pair of knitting needs that Gin hadn’t remembered mentioning and then plopped down next to him after they’d left Logue Town. Though the boy had been nervous around him at first, they often did mindless busywork side by side at the kitchen table. Sometimes Usopp asked for pointers on a project and Sanji would sit with them as they finagled things out.</p>
<p>Sanji… well. More often than not Gin found himself at the blonde’s side, giving him a hand with stocking the pantry and rotating food stores. The young man was ridiculous in his treatment of Nami, but he gave Gin the same snacks, if catered towards his more regimented diet. If it was just the two of them, the cook would make the little North Blue street food that Gin missed the most, spices familiar and heartbreakingly different.</p>
<p>Despite knowing that his time was short, often wishing it was shorter, he almost hoped that he could stay here on this stupidly named little ship. With its stupidly silly and genuine crew.</p>
<p>Almost, though.</p>
<p>Because Gin had learned long ago not to dare to hope.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ubuntu: the belief that we are defined by our compassion and kindness towards others</p></blockquote></div></div>
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